Numb Feet
by artemis-nz
Summary: Set in Ancient Egypt. Bakura, infamous Thief King, makes an escape from a village and has his first encounter with Ryou. Bakura/Ryou.
1. Numb Feet

"Stop, in the name of the Pharaoh!"

Bakura groaned – did they _really_ think he was going to stop just because some prissy Pharaoh was commanding them? And, even if he did stop, the very next thing to happen would simply be imprisonment in some filthy dungeon or other. Or death. Either way, it didn't give the thief much incentive.

"I said stop! Stop, and we may show you mercy, thief!"

Bakura fought off a snigger. Yeah, right. Mercy. Was that before or after his Highness' torture chambers? And Bakura, unlike most of the thieves in this Ra-forsaken village, knew for a fact that those chambers were not simply a bedtime story made up for bad children – call it... personal experience. Numerous scars, mostly white and fading now, were testament to that.

"Sir! We've lost him – the torches do not light up enough ground to see which direction he took!"

"Order the guards to split into two groups, we'll cover more ground that way. And, soldier..."

"Sir?"

The captain lowered his voice, but the crisp night air carried his voice to where Bakura hid, just around the corner.

"Be wary at all times. This thief is cunning – he will use whatever tricks possible to get away, including making off with your own life if he has to."

"Yes, sir."

The soldier ran off, and Bakura forced his breathing into steadiness. A thief never won by rushing things, he reminded himself. A thief, above all, was silent and stealthy – never giving away anything.

The running footsteps were retreating, but just to make sure, Bakura placed his palm on the ground, feeling for vibrations. Of course, those palace idiots would never have done anything of the sort, he knew – too busy trying to see with only their eyes, and never the more subtle ways of doing things. That, and the fact that they were all so pompous that they feared even getting their hands dirty. Well, not Bakura. A thief never got anywhere by shirking away from dirt, or bloodshed for that matter. That was another lesson Bakura had learned very early on in life.

Now, let's see... the cave, he decided. They were all going the wrong way anyway – true, there were only two roads out of the village, but Bakura seldom used roads as a means to escape. No, there were usually much more inventive ways to pass through, and unnoticed as a bonus.

So. Up the bank, over that roof that didn't creak if you walked quickly and on just the right patches, and down that wall, and then through a house that had been deserted for over a season now, and... oh. Shit.

And 'Shit' it was indeed, for the great Thief King, in his haste, had forgotten that sometimes places weren't so abandoned as they first appeared to be, and now he stood frozen, in the middle of an almost-bare room, being stared at by large, somehow reproachful-looking brown eyes.

"Hey...? What are you-"

The youth had his words cut off abruptly, as Bakura covered his mouth none too gently with one tanned hand, the other automatically reaching for his knife.

"Shut up", he hissed, pressing the steel against pale flesh. "Unless you have a wish to die."

"Um, no, not really", said the youth, his voice muffled against the hand.

"Shut up!"

There was running outside, and low voices, words spoken in anger.

"Nothing, sir... that Ra-damned thief got away!"

There was a thud as a soldier hurled an object down to the dust in frustration – a sword, Bakura guessed, or maybe even a spear.

"Alright, let's regroup."

The voices faded away, and Bakura released his hand from the captive, but kept the dagger a mere inch away from the neck.

"Um... are you going to kill me? Because I really don't want to die just yet, but if you are could you please get it over with? The floor's cold and my feet are going numb."

Bakura stared. Were captive's _supposed_ to talk that way? Shouldn't they be begging for their lives by now, or at least screaming for help? But this one – this youth with the very pale face and strangely even paler, almost white hair and dark eyes full of curiosity showed no signs of fear at all.

"Who are you?" Bakura demanded.

"Ryou. I live here. Who are you?"

"Baku-nobody. I'm nobody, and let's keep it that way, shall we?"

A thief never reveals his true name, he stormed to himself. Never! To do so would be to look in the eyes of certain capture.

"But that's not fair – I gave you my name and you won't tell me yours?"

"Look, my only concern is getting out of this village alive without alerting the guard – if you are in my way of that goal, I will be forced to kill you, if that is the only way to keep your silence. So. What do you propose I do?"

Ryou shrugged.

"You _could_ kill me, I suppose. But like I said, I have no wish to die right now, and in any case, I wouldn't tell."

Ra dammit, his voice was so _calm! _Couldn't he at least _pretend_ to be afraid?

Bakura lowered his blade ever so slightly, but his voice grew fierce. After all, he _did_ have a reputation to uphold.

"And how do I know you won't?"

"Because, I said I wouldn't. That will just have to be enough for you, Thief King."

"You... you know who I am? Then you _must_ die!"

But Bakura's arm didn't move, and Ryou merely blinked up at him from his slightly shorter height, unfazed at the threat.

"Oh, don't do that, there really is no need. Swear it on Ra", he said, as Bakura's expression told him that the thief was unconvinced.

And certainly, Bakura felt no urge to kill this pale one, whose eyes were just so... so... _infuriating!_ They radiated complete trust and an almost child-like innocence, yet his words spoke with all the wisdom and confidence of an ancient.

"You..."

"..."

Dammit, he just couldn't do it! Not when those eyes looked at him like that; not when a child, or at least certainly not yet a full-grown man stood before him in bare feet and warm eyes and the hint of a smile that might just suggest compassion – something that Bakura had not witnessed for a long time – too long, it seemed.

"I don't know what to do", he voiced allowed, uncertainty clear in his tone. Logic told him to kill the whelp immediately – it wasn't like he hadn't taken lives before, and to be sure of a clean escape it was simply the easiest, most efficient way of guaranteeing one. But...

But, he couldn't do it.

"Well?"

"Well what?" Bakura snapped, his temper flaring.

"Are you going to kill me?"

Bakura looked away from searching brown eyes.

"No."

"Well then."

A slim pale paw slipped into Bakura's own larger tan one.

"Thank you."

Bakura turned around in one fluid motion to ask just what the fuck _that_ meant, but found that in turning so rapidly he had accidentally brushed his lips against Ryou's, and that...

...That...

... Oh.

_Oh._

"Oh."

He actually quite liked the feeling, and 'oh' seemed to sum it up quite well at that moment.

Ryou's cheeks flushed a delicate pink; Bakura would have called the sight cute, adorable, gorgeous, if such words still existed in the Thief King's dictionary. But, he reminded himself sharply, a self-respecting thief simply didn't _say_ words like that – even _thinking_ them was degrading enough.

"I have to go", he mumbled, while inwardly cursing himself: _oh, real smooth, Bakura._

"Yes, you had better", agreed Ryou. "The Palace Guard will surely be back for another search, and you don't want to be cornered here."

"Indeed not."

But Bakura didn't move, and Ryou made no move to step away either, still staring at Bakura with some kind of wonder alighting his eyes.

"Uh... well... out of the way then!" said Bakura roughly, turning away again.

"Promise you won't stab me if I do?" asked Ryou, smiling a little, and Bakura realised that the knife was still up and facing Ryou's neck.

Feeling decidedly foolish, Bakura lowered the knife and stalked out.

Ryou looked after him, then gaped in surprise as Bakura's retreating back turned and began walking back towards him. Bakura took full advantage of Ryou's shock and, with a roguish grin, pressed deliberately onto Ryou's lips with his own, making a soft noise at the back of his throat when Ryou's lips parted slightly to allow Bakura access... and then somehow Ryou's arms were around his waist as he leaned further in, and nothing else really seemed to matter – the torture chambers becoming only a vague image... and... and-

Bakura pulled away with eyes widened – this was very dangerous! His senses, never wrong, told him to get as far away from this place as he could, and _right now. _Danger was coming.

"The name's Bakura. Goodbye, Ryou", he said, and then he turned and fled, leaving a heavier-breathing Ryou behind him, standing in the light of one candle with bare feet, which were now completely without feeling.

"Oh", said Ryou, to an empty space. "Well. I guess that was worth numb feet." He out a hand to his lips, feeling the warmth still there, and smiled a small, yet somehow blissful smile. "I feel certain we are to meet again", he murmured to himself, and up on the roof, a silent Bakura gave a feral grin and then jumped down, legs moving as fast as he could make them.

Sensitive ears, trained to hearing things from long distances away, caught the faint noises of guards running, a door being burst open – they were checking the houses, then. And, although Bakura really was too far away to be certain, he thought he could detect a familiar, tenor voice answering a negative to furious questions...

...Ryou closed the door behind the soldier who had just checked the house, and the hint of a blush was still gracing his features. Meanwhile, Bakura, still running to who knew where, laughed quietly to himself, an image of a tiny smile fixated in his mind.


	2. Sands of time

**So this fic was _going_ to be a one-shot, but then my muse viciously attacked me and I decided to keep going with it. Here you have it: the saga, if you will, of Ryou 'n Bakura, set in Ancient Egypt. Reviews are, as always, greatly appreciated. (Just a quick note also; these first chapters are pretty easy-going, but I do have ideas for later chapters that will cover more mature themes, so the rating may at some point go up).  
**

Bakura trudged up the final sand dune, turning around to view the way he'd come. He gave a sniff, breathing in the spicy air and then heaved a sigh of contentment. Yes, _this_ was why he's become the infamous Thief King. True, it was no easy life. At some point or other there would always be loneliness, or hunger, or thirst, or the simple fact that the sand _itched_ so damn _badly _and he didn't have fresh clothes and a bath at his disposal. But still, despite everything...

Despite all the rough times...

Freedom mattered, he decided. He didn't care that he hadn't eaten a truly decent meal in many days. Neither did he care that he hadn't washed in many more days. He was, he knew, far better off than those pompous idiots at the palace, growing fat and lazy on un-earned fruits, and considerably better off than some slave, running around simply to please his master in the hopes of some small act of kindness being thrown his way. Yes, his road may have been rough at times, and Ra knew what the next day would hold in store for him, but at least he was _free_.

And currently halfway between his private hidden cave if he ever happened to need sanctuary, and his new destination; the town of Karnak – well-known (and therefore, to Bakura's mind, likely to be well wealthy). In any event, it was a place that Bakura had never been – and Bakura, proud thief for now over six summers despite his youth (though no-one had yet guessed correctly his real age), relished the challenge of uncharted territory.

The tomb robber looked up from his musings, sniffing the air again experimentally. Something in the air was definitely not right...

He cursed loudly, realising his mistake in pausing on his journey – not even a legendary Thief King could stop the forces of nature or, in this case, a sandstorm. Quickly removing scraps of cloth from his belt just for that purpose, he wrapped them about his face, neck, hands – anywhere that was exposed to the elements. He could not outrun the storm now; lying low, he would have to wait it out and pray to Ra that he would live to see another sunrise. He could feel the extreme closeness of the air now, and the heat coming off in waves as the sand rolled toward him in a fury. His ears filled with a buzzing noise, and then suddenly it was all around him, and over him, and on him and even underneath him as every single grain of sand that found even the tiniest spot of bare skin pounded into him relentlessly.

One wouldn't think it, looking at small grains of the golden sand, but it _hurt! _The sand drove straight into him; no amount of digging into the dune with his fingers could stop the force of the storm from rolling him over and over, creating dizziness and complete vertigo to anyone who was caught out in it – not even the bravest tomb robber. It rubbed his skin completely raw; Bakura couldn't stop his mouth opening just a little to cry out in pain and, though he would never admit it afterwards, fear and awe of this experience. A bad idea, as it happened. His mouth filled with sand and Bakura choked and gagged in a fruitless effort to rid his mouth of the rough substance. His vision grew hazy, and his eyes closed.

When it was finally still, Bakura staggered his way up, the sand falling off his form in sheets. A moment later, the dizziness came back with such pounding in his head that he fell back down, and his eyes once again closed, this time against his will. The desert was completely silent.

* * *

"Ahhhhh..." Bakura gasped as something cool was placed on his forehead; it felt delightfully fresh to his burning skin, but rubbed against the rawness of it like sandpaper. 

"Lie still", a voice kindly advised.

Bakura, however, had no intention of doing so. He knew that voice!

"What in the name of Ra...!"

He sat up, but immediately regretted doing so as a fresh wave of pain engulfed him.

"Oh, Ra..." he couldn't help but hiss.

It didn't matter anyway; through half-closed eyes he had caught a glimpse of what he had been longing to see. White hair. Pale skin. Brown eyes. Ryou.

"Well, I did warn you", said Ryou, though his voice was still sympathetic. "You were caught in that sandstorm, weren't you?"

"And what if I was?" said Bakura. His voice was harsh, but Ryou didn't seem to much mind the rudeness.

"Oh, its really none of my business, I suppose", said Ryou cheerfully. "Only I couldn't just leave you there, and with the nearest village yet two days travel away, I didn't see any option but to take you here."

Bakura sat up, more carefully this time, to see where exactly 'here' was. A small stone lodge, apparently; Bakura's own stash of supplies was lodged in just such a one, though much smaller and well-hidden than this.

"Here."

A bowl of water was handed to him, and Bakura drank it slowly; in spite of his thirst, he knew he would only splutter and choke the water back up if he drank too quickly. He then got up to leave; if there was anything more than the Ra-damned Pharaoh he hated, it was being in someone's debt. But Ryou would have none of it, and placed a restraining hand on Bakura's chest.

"You have to stay. You're not recovered enough to leave yet; I would say that it was nearly a full day before I found you, and with that sun on you for that long, you are very dehydrated. Plus I'd guess that you're muscles are very sore, yes?"

Bakura had to admit to himself that they were indeed _very_ sore, but dammed if he was going to let Ryou know that. A thief _never_ showed his weakness.

With that reasoning in mind, he once again tried to get up, but Ryou leaned over him, his eyes pleading.

"Please", he begged, brown eyes seeming larger than ever. "You have to stay, I don't want you to die!"

Bakura was taken aback – for one thing, he might be very sore, but he certainly wasn't planning to let Ra take him yet. And for another, why did this youth, who he had met only once before even care so much?

Cursing, Bakura lay back down, and Ryou appeared to relax a little.

"Wha..." Bakura coughed and tried again. "What do you care about me for? Huh, Ryou? What makes you so _fucking different_ from everyone else that you could possibly care for a Ra-forsaken thief?"

His words were very bitter, and Ryou wondered at the reason, but decided that it was not the best time to ask.

"I don't know. I just know that so many people I;ve cared about have died, and I don't want you to be one of them!"

Bakura was about to yell at him again for being such a baby, but looking at Ryou's earnest eyes, could sense the truth behind his words. He tried not to care too much, though; a thief didn't show such trivial emotions as pity.

"Fine", he muttered sullenly, and Ryou beamed, whilst Bakura's heart sped up and the thief tried to convince himself that it hadn't.

Two days later, Bakura knew it was time to move on – that challenge in Karnak still awaited, and a thief never backed away from a challenge. So Bakura told himself as he made sure his knife, pieces of cloth and water bags were secure in his belt.

* * *

Ryou waited in the cave's opening, watching him make last-moment preparations. 

"Bakura..."

His voice, usually so clear and confident was now strangely hesitant.

"Well, what is it?" asked Bakura impatiently.

"Just... be careful", said Ryou, and, not knowing how to say what he next wanted to, he approached the tomb robber and, before he could change his mind, planted a chaste kiss on Bakura lips. Bakura leaned forward and deepened the kiss, letting his instict take over his usually logical reasoning for a few moments.

"Ryou... for Ra's sake, don't... you don't want to get involved with me... I'm just..."

"I know who you are", said Ryou, suddenly firm again. "And I'll make my own decisions on who I get involved with, thank you."

He stalked back inside the cave, glancing over his shoulder as he watched Bakura leave and trying to stay mad. It didn't work though, and Ryou was soon watching the thief again, as his figure slowly disappeared over the nearest sand dune.

Bakura, swaggering off into the distance, felt a smirk grow on his face. Yes, he decided, the life of a thief definitely had its trials...

Though, at the moment, freedom did not seem to be the only perk on his horizon.


	3. The Ball

**Important: To do this part of the story justice, I'll split this one into two chapters. The next part will come soon, so don't be too upset at the cliffhanger!**

Bakura cursed – perhaps a little too loudly, as the guards looked at him curiously. Luckily for him they had better things to do than chase up some rude ball guest or other, such as checking that everyone who entered did so only after inspection of their invitation.

Really, it was quite a novelty, being able to stand near the guards with no fear of arrest. It was a cinch actually – Bakura had an invitation (taken from a dead man, it was true, and Bakura _might_ have had something to do with that, but then again, he might not have), and he also had some respectable(-ish) clothing. Granted, it might not have stood up to what some of the other guests were wearing, but it was also a far cry from the garb of a servant, slave or common workman or merchant.

And it was truly a sight for the thief, who had not seen so many riches all in one place before. Still, if the lord of the town decided to throw a ball to show off his wealth, then he might as well have been _asking_ for Bakura to attend in the first place – so really, it was his own fault for being so damn pompous.

Bakura skirted the groups of people, sharp eyes taking note of everything he might use to his advantage. Sure enough, there was more than one exit – five, to be exact, if he counted the two windows. And then there were the small trinkets that, although used every day in a ball room like this, could be sold for a fair amount of gold coins at any market in the kingdom. Those gold embossed candlesticks, for a start, and then there was that small vase inlaid with gold also, and over on that table over there...

The guests, of course, noticed nothing out of the ordinary, and continued to chat and talk over more mundane subjects, as Bakura stuffed a great deal of objects up his fashionable and oh-so-handy wide sleeves, and down his tunic. Sleight of hand was often a thief's greatest asset.

The night continued on – there were a few hitches, such as Bakura having, once or twice, to make small talk with some of the more annoying guests intent on knowing everyone in the room, and then there was that most annoying woman batting blue eyes at him and insisting on a dance (but hurriedly excusing herself when Bakura accidentally-on-purpose stepped on her feet). But the wine (and very good wine it was, too) continued to flow, and the laughter increased, as did the noise, and still more wine flowed, until everyone was in a happily drunken daze and completely oblivious to a sly thief about his work in their midst.

Something, however, made Bakura pause in his work. On the opposite side of the room, a pair of chocolate-brown eyes watched in both amusement and apparent drunkenness as Bakura was slipping a jewelled dagger into one of his various deep pockets. Bakura caught a flash of white hair amongst the more common dark, and hissed in annoyance. Okay, so he liked Ryou, but this was getting ridiculous!

"What the _fuck_ are you _doing here?_"

Bakura's voice was low and threatening – he did not like to be disturbed in his work.

Ryou gave a little giggle.

"I got invited, of course. What are you doing here, 'Kura?"

"Don't call me that, idiot! For one, its ridiculous, and for another I'm _supposed_ to be Rakaash!"

Ryou just gave another giggle and shook his head.

"'Kura, you're so funny! _I _saw you thieving again, even if nobody else did, and-"

"And who is you're friend, Ryou?"

The male who interrupted was tall and menacing – Bakura disliked him on the spot, with his green-grey eyes that were much too sharp and much too sober for his own good.

Ryou began to answer, but Bakura firmly drowned him out.

"Rakaash, sir, at your service. The gods favour us this night, sir."

"Oh, please, good Rakaash, why so formal? You may of course call me Akan."

Okay, so now Bakura definitely didn't like what he saw – and heard. This 'Akan' was most certainly much too sober for one who had just been spending the night at the ball, and Bakura only just managed to stop his arm from withdrawing that jewelled dagger he had taken and ramming it into this man's throat for even _thinking_ he could hold Ryou around the waist like that!

Akan smirked – he had seen Bakura's eyes narrow, but both men knew that Bakura could do nothing; Ryou was not objecting to the familiarity.

"I'll go get some more drinks..."

"Do not trouble yourself, my dear Ryou, please, allow me."

Akan glided off, and Bakura narrowed his eyes still further at Ryou.

"What in the name of Ra do you think you're _doing_, getting yourself mixed up with a guy like that! He'd sooner slit your throat than show any kindness, and you're drunk! He could kill you in a heartbeat."

Ryou leaned against the Thief King, apparently unable to support himself.

"You're one to talk, 'Kura. Besides, I'm here by invitation, and I can take care of myself – the choices I make are my own."

"Ryou, just think rationally for a moment-"

But Akan came back, and Bakura's warning went unheeded. Even worse, Akan seemed to notice Ryou's disorientation, and his arm once again snaked around his waist.

"Why, Ryou, you must forgive me for overlooking your tiredness! Had you but said, I would have taken action immediately. As it is, you simply must spend the night in my house – I understand that you are travelling, and have but only an inn in which to spend the night."

Ryou nodded amiably, and Bakura felt panic for a moment.

"Ryou...!"

Ryou didn't look back, but Akan heard the unspoken plea, and turned around to catch Bakura's eye for a moment, a look of both greed and a kind of eerie triumph upon his face.

**To be continued...**


	4. The Ball pt2

Bakura's feet were bare – all the better for which to sneak down the darkened passageway undetected. The guards were no problem – a simple concoction of certain herbs mixed in with their water meant they would sleep until sunrise. It had taken a while, for there were a great many guards, but eventually Bakura had quietly dispatched them all.

Ra, the floor was cold! For someone who was so rich, the man seemed to have a taste for cool marble rather than woven mats. Nonetheless, the walls surrounding Bakura were certainly well decorated; even in the gloom the thief could make out designs from gold that would probably feed a full village. Too bad he couldn't steal them.

Still, Bakura was on edge despite the guards being temporarily out of action. Akan struck the thief as someone who would protect his belongings with a great fierceness... was it all too easy? But the hallway was dark, and there was no sound but for Bakura's own softly-forced breathing. No vibration from the walls or floor either, noticed Bakura as he placed his hand around experimentally; which meant nobody nearby was moving around.

Having done all he could think of to check for danger, Bakura moved quicker, although he was still silent as he knew how – which, for a good thief, was extremely so.

Systematically, Bakura began to check each room he came across. He kept to the downstairs parts, knowing that only servants or slaves generally slept in the upstairs rooms. In spite of this, it seemed to take a very long time to even check the south wing of the house.

Pausing very suddenly, Bakura became a mere shadow on the wall as he noticed a flickering light coming from beyond a doorway – in the beginnings of the west wing now. His eyes darting to make sure the room was completely empty, he stepped in, freezing in the doorway with dagger half-drawn. Nothing. No movement whatsoever, though he could see now that the light had come from a candle set into the wall on a golden bracket. He turned to go, disappointed and frustrated, but spun around on his heel in one movement as his ears picked up the sound of what sounded like a stifled sob or cry.

_Aha._

A small doorway led from the candlelit room into another one, previously unseen as it was unlit by the candle on the opposite side. Stealthily, Bakura moved forward, dagger now fully drawn.

"Ahh..."

The sound came again, much louder this time, and Bakura could hear the desperation in that one moan.

Peeking through the doorway, eyes widened in shock and an anger that surprised him.

"Ryou... Ra!"

That was all Bakura could utter, looking at Ryou. His eyes were wide with fright; clearly Ryou was sober enough to know what was happening to him – or, thought Bakura with a shudder, what may have already happened.

Ryou's wrists were tied to the bed, thick pieces of leather tight – already Bakura could see the redness that had irritated the skin there. His legs were also tied together with the same type of leather. He was completely naked.

There were candles all around the walls; on Ryou's moon-pale skin an intricate dance of shadow and flame were being played out. He was, thought Bakura, amazingly beautiful, and right now absolutely terrified.

"Ryou... Ra, what has he done to you!"

The words were spoken in a whisper, and Ryou's body shook, sobs being held back by sheer effort of will.

"Bakura... run, he knows...!"

"Fuck."

"Indeed", said a deep voice from behind him.

Bakura spun around, but Akan was already behind him, fiddling nonchalantly with a dagger of his own. "Really, I am impressed you made it thus far."

Akan began a slow clapping, that echoed in the near-empty room and created a very eerie sound.

"What the hell did you do to Ryou?"

Akan rose an eyebrow.

"Nothing... much. Why, I am amazed you would even ask. He did, after all, come here of his own free will."

"He was drunk and you knew it!"

Akan shrugged, dispassionate.

"Maybe I did. Either way, it was his own choice... now wasn't it, Ryou?"

Ryou shook his head frantically, but seemed either too shocked or frightened to speak.

"Don't lie... you enjoyed every minute of it, didn't you? Little whore of mine."

Ryou gasped, as Bakura's hand came up and backhanded Akan forcefully across the cheek.

"You... don't you dare... how you even..."

Bakura hissed, his voice so filled with fury that he found it difficult to even speak, though he could not understand why he felt so angry. Even Akan's sneering face appeared, for just one moment, too show fear.

"You disgust me, and you shall pay for what you have done!"

Akan stepped back out of reach of Bakura's knife, and seemed to regain his composure.

"Is that any way to treat a noble? You are a thief, and you are nothing – _nothing_. Ryou is mine, and I keep what is my own."

Akan then took a further step back, obviously not doubting Bakura's ability with the dagger.

"So I'm afraid this is the end – you've had your fun, thief. I don't know how you got in, but rest assured you will not be getting out. Alive, that is."

Bakura growled, beyond words for the moment and apparently uncaring of any danger as he leapt towards the elder man, quickly covering the space between them. He slashed once, twice, and suddenly there was blood on both of them, although whose blood was impossible to tell.

"Guards!"

But there were no answering footsteps, and Bakura grinned, a feral smile with no warmth in it at all.

"Oh, I'm sorry, did I forget to tell you? You're guards are dead!"

It was a lie of course – they merely slept, but Akan wasn't to know that. His eyes showed panic now – clearly he was no match for Bakura in skill with the blade, while Bakura had both an added agility and experience on his side.

"You killed my guards? Impossible!"

"It was not so hard. I am, after all, not just a _thief_, Akan."

Without warning he moved his hand to hit Akan under the chin, and while Akan's hands moved by unconscious reflex to block him, Bakura slahed once more with his blade, and watched while it ran crimson, and while Akan, eyes still wide, sank to his knees and slumped over.

"I am the Thief King. And I say, never mess with what I hold close."

Akan's eyes dimmed and went blank, and Bakura approached the bed, quickly cutting the bonds that held Ryou there.

"Are you alright? By Ra, if he harmed you-"

"He didn't. I just... I thought he was going to... and if you hadn't come he would have..."

His voice, already very soft, trailed off as the tears held back finally spilled over. Bakura let him cry, while absently rubbing his wrists and ankles to get the circulation going again. After not very long, Ryou pulled himself together a little.

"Can you walk?"

Ryou nodded, and Bakura helped him up, throwing his cloak over the pale skin. Quick footsteps were heard outside; evidently Akan's cry had not gone completely unchallenged.

"Let's go – we may have visitors, and I can't win against so many."

Ryou ran, following Bakura and trusting him to find the way out. A moment later there were shouts as Akan's body was found. Fortunately the alarm had not been raised as yet, and the guards posted outside slept on while Bakura and Ryou rushed past them.

"Wait! One more thing."

Bakura grabbed a candle, touching it to the tapestries on the walls. They quickly caught alight, and once outside he watched in the shadows with Ryou and many other villagers as Akan's house was burned to the ground.

And Ryou stood, transfixed, not at the house with the thick smoke pouring out, but at Bakura, and the slow trickle of blood that made its way slowly down one side of his face.

"Bakura. I'm so sorry, and you're hurt. Its my fault."

"Yes. But I'll get over it. I have many scars. What's one more?"

Ryou slipped his hand into Bakura's larger one, and the thief did not pull away.


	5. Scars

"You hate him because _why?_"

"You heard me. He has abominable fashion sense. And he keeps more... dubious company. Have you seen his High Priest? Maniac if ever I saw one. His cousin, too. Anyone related to someone like that in the first place is bad news."

Bakura and Ryou sat opposite each other, their backs against their belongings and a fire between them to ward off the harsh night air of the desert.

"I don't get it. You say you hate him, but really you don't know him at all, other than maybe the fashion sense."

Bakura gave a bitter kind of chuckle.

"Oh believe me, I know him – and his majesty's torture chambers – quite well."

"Surely _he_ didn't do such a thing? He wouldn't!"

Bakura shrugged carelessly.

"Him, his guards, same thing. The Pharaoh commands them, they just do what he says."

"Its not really the same thing at all", protested Ryou. "I'm certain he would be disgusted with such things."

"Tell that to those that have been there", said Bakura, darkly. "The things I've seen... goodnight", he said, abruptly closing the conversation. Ryou, however, persevered.

"But Bakura..."

"I said goodnight!"

Bakura rolled over on his side, presenting his back. Ryou moved to face him again, gently tracing a finger down the scar on his cheek.

"Tell me", he said, softly.

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because you don't need to know! Nobody does, and nobody cares either, so why don't you fuck off and let the past stay where it is! Stop pretending to care, everyone pretends to care..."

Ryou caught the note of... something, in the tomb robber's voice, and moved closer in his roll of blankets, so that his mouth was very close to Bakura's ear.

"I care", he whispered. "I do."

* * *

The two plodded on slowly, day melting into night then blazing into scorching day once again, until finally the town came into sight. It was where it had all begun. The capital of Egypt itself – where the Pharaoh himself lived. The palace loomed ahead in the distance, and even from the dune Bakura spotted guards, going about their business with a sharp eye.

"Are you sure you want to be back here? Dangerous, you know. Not a good idea if you can't hold your own with a weapon – or without one, if need be. Pickpockets everywhere, too."

Ryou looked amused.

"Pickpockets? You're not one to talk."

Bakura huffed.

"I am most certainly not a pickpocket!" he hissed indignantly, his voice low enough not to carry. "I am Bakura, great Thief King! And ten times the man that prissy Pharaoh will ever be."

"With better fashion sense?"

"That too", nodded Bakura. "Not to mention better looking, and stronger, and braver, and..."

Ryou stopped listening, walking ahead and leaving Ryou to follow. It was, after all, now his home town. He knew his way around very well, although Bakura probably wasn't to know that.

By twilight they had made their way past all the guards and to Ryou's own house, where candles were lit and food put out, devoured hungrily (and with little manners) by Bakura. Ryou ate more slowly, and with a little more dignity, but paid no heed to Bakura's apparent lack of it.

"So, you never told me", he said, as Bakura pushed back his chair with a sigh of contentment.

"Told you what?"

"How you got that scar on your cheek."

"I have many, I said that before. This is just one of them – what can you expect? Thief by trade, and thief I am treated, whether by the guards or some town busybody with a nose for bribery."

"But that scar-"

"Drop it, Ryou. It doesn't matter how I got it, so leave it be."

Ryou shut up for the moment, then decided to change the topic.

"Listen, Bakura, tomorrow I have to make a visit to someone. I need to go alone-"

"Oh no you're not! Wherever you're going, I'm going, too. As you yourself demonstrated, it is no good idea to go alone to visit some person, _especially_ if its at another ball."

"Its not. Don't worry, I know this person very well. He is a friend."

"Oh? Who?"

"It... it is no matter. But I am certain I will be quite safe with him."

"Him, is it? All the more reason for me to know. Just tell me, Ryou."

"The Pharaoh. Atemu."

Bakura jumped up, his chair screeching harshly against the floor.

"What! You... you're _friends_ with the Pharaoh? And you didn't see fit to tell me? You have no idea what he... you... Ra, I've been so _stupid!_"

Ryou looked on in distress as Bakura paced the room.

"I trusted you! I trusted you and you never even said... I can't believe I even... I was a fool to think you might actually... someone even cared... FUCK!"

"Bakura, please, its not what you-"

"Shut up! Just shut the fuck up! Or I swear by Ra that I will finish what I did not the night I met you!"

Ryou made another attempt.

"Listen to me, Bakura, please, I never meant that the Pha-"

"Don't even say his name, I don't want to hear it! You stand there all totally innocent and actually expect me to believe you never meant to tell him of me? I should have known the very second I met you! You don't even know what I've been through, how I've lived for so many summers, how _dare_ you stand there and tell me more lies! You have no idea, do you? You want to know how I got my scars? This scar? Do you want to know? Its because people like you betrayed me! That's right, I was betrayed by my so called _friends_, and you know something else? They were just like _YOU!_"

Bakura stopped, chest heaving with his words and the emotion now poring out from inside. And, just like that, Ryou's hand came out, slapping Bakura across the face, as a single tear ran from his eye.

"Don;t... don't even say... how ca you say all those things, when you don't even know me? I'm not like that, and you can't... you think you're the only one who's had it rough? You think you're the only one who doesn't have a family, who's seen death and blood and pain and... you think you're the only one with scars?"

Bakura drew his dagger.

"Ironic, isn't is, Ryou. Right back where we started. Well, I suggest we end it, right here? What do you say, Ryou? Shall I kill you? Shall I slit your throat, just like the thief you think me to be? Well I won't, because I'm not like you, and I'll never be like that! _Never!_"

He let the knife go, and it fell, glinting, at Ryou's feet. Bakura stepped back, and spat, accurately, at the tip of the blade.

And he left, leaving Ryou standing in the middle of the room, the candle spluttering wax and lighting up the knife still at his feet where Bakura had let it go.

The door slammed; and he was alone.


	6. Loneliness

In the 'Golden Dagger' - an ironic name, thought Bakura, depressingly - the tomb robber at on his own and downed wine, ignoring the more cheerful crowds. He ignored the whorehouse on the floor up also, despite the fact that more than one woman were looking at him in rather forthright manners. Once, a long time ago, he would have gone without question. Now, there just didn't seem to be any point.

"Another?"

No 'sir's' here, but Bakura didn't mind; he wasn't a 'sir' anyway, and the innkeeper knew it. Nobody was a 'sir' in this kind of place, or a 'madam' either, for that matter.

Bakura nodded, and the portly man poured out another goblet. Red wine, unwatered and bitter. He had tasted better in his travels, but it couldn't be helped. Bakura downed the cup in one.

* * *

"... Travelled with a friend."

"Well, anyone who is a friend of yours, Ryou, is a friend of mine, also. Thank you for this report – it will prove most useful."

Ryou nodded, and hid the wry smile at the image of the Thief King and the Pharaoh being 'friends'. Luckily, Atemu didn't question Ryou further on that matter.

"Here is the official report, Atemu."

The Pharaoh Yami Atemu – but the latter only to his friends – accepted the scroll, quickly skimming through the contents. The report held much of Egypt that would be crucial to ruling it; from how far each town and province had progressed, to damage to any property that would need to be compensated, to the ill-treatment of any slaves found.

"Excellent. A good job, as usual, Ryou, and I am in your debt."

"No debts between friends, Atemu."

The Pharaoh nodded, handed the scroll to his attendant, and stood.

"Well, enough of business, then – the scribes can look over this and expand on the details if necessary before recording them in the records. For now, you must walk with me a little. Come, I have heard nothing of how _you_ found your travels."

"I have been well, Atemu. There was one encounter at the ball in Kaash, but I would rather not go into details. The man responsible is dead, though not by my hand. I met an... interesting person on my travels also."

"Oh?"

"Yes, he helped me out of a rough spot in Kaash, as I did him after a sandstorm."

Atemu glanced more closely, smiling at Ryou's slight flush.

"I see. And, he was your... travelling companion?"

Ryou blushed pinker at the Pharaoh's teasing grin.

"Its not like that!" he blurted out, too quickly, and Atemu grinned wider.

"Yami! Stop teasing him – your the Pharaoh! You're _supposed_ to be well-mannered."

A smaller form stepped out of the shadows; Ryou recognised him immediately.

"A good evening to you, Yugi. Glad to see you are recovered."

The young man Yugi nodded, a gentle smile on his face.

"Yes, it all worked out in the end. After the Princess..."

He trailed off, seeing the Pharaoh's now somewhat stormier face at the mention of the Princess.

"But that's over now, and we're both fine."

"So I see, and I am happy for both of you. You seem happier for it, Atemu."

"I am", said Atemu, placing an arm loosely around Yugi's waist. "Very happy indeed. There was much to be done to restore things after the passing away of my Father, and then another earthquake only moons later after that... but things have settled down now. Apart from the self-proclaimed, infamous Thief King, of course; he escaped from here not two moons ago."

"... Yes... yes, I had heard tales of that."

Atemu looked sharply at Ryou for a moment, wondering at the hesitation in Ryou's voice.

"Its just that your guard seemed to find reasoning to forcefully enter my house for questioning", finished Ryou, hurriedly.

The Pharaoh seemed to accept that, and carried on down the hall.

"Very well. It grows late; you will, of course, be supping with us?"

"I... don't know..."

"Please, Ryou? I want to hear more of your travels", said Yugi, amethyst eyes dancing.

"Indeed", said Atemu. "And your house will be cold and empty; stay here, at least for tonight. I never understood why you stayed there, as you know you have ample gold to choose to live wherever you wish now in the kingdom."

"You pay me very well, Atemu; it is not that. I just value solitude, that's all."

"Too well, I fear", answered the Pharaoh. "Nonetheless, you will stay here tonight? Yes? Them I will prepare a room for you."

Ryou gave in, putting aside feelings of guilt and sadness at knowing that Bakura would not be waiting for him at his home. There was no point hoping, he knew. Bakura was gone, and Ryou was left, alone again. He valued solitude, it was true; but that did not mean he valued loneliness – an emotion he had felt far too often as a child, before he had known the Pharaoh, or the wise Isis, or the ever-cheerful Yugi, or... '_Bakura_', said his mind nastily, making Ryou flinch. '_Traitor_', he replied, angry at being reminded.

He went to bed exhausted, and feeling drained. Missing something. Wanting... '_not something. Someone_', piped up his mind again, and this time Ryou was too tired to block out the thoughts that flooded him.

Bakura. The sandstorm. Bakura. The ball. Bakura. His friend. Bakura. His companion. Bakura... his love...

"Bakura", came the whisper from Ryou, and the word echoed through the empty chamber.

**Just a quick note: I wanted to do this shorter chapter to show how Ryou is feeling, as it has been mainly from Bakura's P.O.V thus far.  
Also, the 'earthquake' and 'Princess' referred to in this chapter is from another Egyptian fic centered around Yugi and Yami named 'Now and Forever' (sequal to 'A Pharaoh's Heart'). Its not essential to understand the story, but if anyone is reading this who also read those two fics, you should know what I am referring to and how Ryou came to be doing what he is for the Pharaoh.**


	7. Palace Thief

"Stuck. Up. Fashion. Violating. Idiot. PHARAOH!"

Each word was punctuated by a sharp kick at the wall, until Bakura slumped down, defeated and still with the fury raging inside him. He had come home in the very early hours of the morning, shivering and with his stomach cramping most uncomfortably, to find Ryou's house deserted. Not that Bakura had expected anything else, of course, but still...

"Fuck."

Which meant only one thing – Ryou had already gone to report to the Pharaoh, which meant that the Pharaoh now finally knew where the infamous Thief King was hiding out, which also meant that-

"Oh fuck!"

Bakura leapt up, ignoring the jolt of pain to his head. '_A good thief is never hung over_', he told himself. He collected his knife from where it still lay on the floor, had a swig or two of water, grabbed a loaf of coarse bread from his pack and stumbled out of the house while forcing the dry bread down.

It was late afternoon – the shadows were long and the sun very orange; Bakura could see people going home from work, and the noise from the market had died down. The tomb robber blinked, realising that he had slept nearly all day.

'_Crap_'.

Bakura rapidly did some calculations in his head. If Ryou had gone to the palace last night, then the Pharaoh should already know where Bakura had been hiding. How long would it take to get some soldiers together? Not long, he was sure... so then, why was he still here, and not in some dungeon? If the royal guard was still not here, it could only mean that Ryou had not told the Pharaoh of his whereabouts...

'_Yet_'.

"Ra. Not good."

Bakura shouldered his pack and left at a quick walk, not wanting to draw attention from anyone who might be watching. There was simply nothing for it; he wold have to leave town again, and right now, while he still had the chance.

In a moment he stopped suddenly, looking back at the palace, now gleaming golden in the setting of the sun. Why was he running away? Was he not Bakura, the almighty Thief King, afraid of nothing and no-one?

'_So why am I running, then, like a coward?_'

"Because a good thief never runs", he whispered to himself.

With a determined stride he turned around, marching purposefully toward the palace instead of away from it, a plan forming in his mind as he did so.

'_If Ryou and that stuck-up, Ra-forsaken, poor excuse for a Pharaoh think they can just chase me away like a common market-place thief, they've got another thing coming. I'll show them just what I'm capable of..._'

Walking into the... establishment that he had drunk in the night before, the tomb robber without any hesitation booked a room. He wrinkled his nose at the state it was in, but shrugged the thought away. It wasn't like he would be actually sleeping there for long, and at least he was safer there than back at the house.

With that in mind, he lay down on the hard bed and rested, wanting to be fresh for later on.

* * *

And he thought that Akaan's house had been big! There must have been rooms and corridor's enough in the palace to fill up a province with houses, but the thief was still determined to go through as much as he could, gathering all items of value along the way. The ultimate crime – stealing from the Pharaoh himself. The thought gave Bakura pleasure, and he grinned, elated. _This_ was what he was made for, and by Ra he would do it, even if it meant a whole lifetime of running from the soldiers to achieve it.

It had not been easy work getting inside in the first place; for a while Bakura had despaired of ever getting in. It was a lot harder than Akaan's guards, but eventually, after knocking out two and poisoning another, all completely soundlessly, he was in.

Light fingered and silent, Bakura crept around, eyes widening in glee as he spotted treasures in every room – jewelled weapons, priceless pottery, finely woven fabrics, cand intricately carved ornaments; none were overlooked. The thief moved like a shadow himself, using the dark patches of shade to his advantage. All his senses were extended, so that he was able to slip past guards unnoticed – or if not, the guards themselves were efficiently dispatched. Bakura's dagger was gripped tightly, but he had not yet had to kill anybody. If he had to, however...

'_Because a good thief never shrinks from his job, even if it means getting his hands dirty_'.

And it was very true; he would not have been able to survive this far, otherwise.

Chamber after chamber was investigated and thoroughly searched, and still Bakura remained undetected, though he had certainly had more than a few close calls. The thief moved into yet another chamber, intent on finding any hidden treasures within. No valuables would escape his gaze, no riches would be beyond his reach, no-

"What in the name of Ra...?"

Bakura swore – someone had heard him, or seen him. He remained perfectly still, hoping that whoever it was would think he was imagining things and go back to sleep; he hadn't realised that the chamber was someone's room.

Bakura's luck abruptly changed; a candle was lit, spluttering quietly, and the shadows were thrown into relief. Bakura stood, in the corner of the room, for all eyes to see. And see they did.

"_Bakura?_"

Bakura inwardly groaned, cursing his ill fate to lead him here, of all places.

"Good evening, Ryou", he said quietly, and the look in the thief's eyes at that moment was pure malice.


	8. Fools' Love

Ryou watched, brown eyes wide, as Bakura turned to go.

"Wait! What are you... what are you doing?"

Bakura's back was to Ryou as he replied, "Why, Ryou, I'd think that was perfectly obvious."

"Why are you doing this!"

"Open your eyes! I'm a thief, Ryou – I'm doing my job. Stay out of my way, for I cannot now guarantee your life."

Ryou looked crestfallen, and his eyes filled with tears, though none were spilt.

"Please, Bakura, don't do this-"

"_Shut up!_ Run to your precious _Pharaoh_ if you want, but I don't care."

Bakura still didn't meet his eyes, and he began to walk away. Without thinking, Ryou, ran and stood in front of him, blocking the only exit from the chamber.

"I won't let you go, not until you listen!"

Bakura's hand shot out, pausing just an inch from Ryou's face.

"What, are you going to hit me? Are you? Well? _Answer me!_"

"No."

"Then you will stay, and you will listen. I didn't tell Atemu about you, I swear! He doesn't even know I met you."

"Good for him."

"Bakura! Don't you even care?"

"No, I don't. Now get out of my way."

Ryou was at a loss what to do next.

"You don't have to do this, Bakura. Please, we can just leave now, we can-"

"We?"

Bakura's voice was icy cold, and stopped Ryou's in its tracks.

"There is no 'we', Ryou, there never was, and you were a fool to think there ever could be."

"I love you!"

Bakura looked stunned for a moment, then he began to laugh. The sound had no mirth, and it echoed around the chamber, making Ryou shiver.

"You love me? You're a fool!_ I_ was a fool, to think you ever could. Well this time I'm not falling for it, Ryou, sorry. My wits must have completely deserted me, to make me ever think such a thing was possible. Love is for nobility and the weak of heart, and you're both. And I, dear Ryou, am neither. Now, if that is the only thing you had to say, then let me pass."

"I won't! You can't just leave, not after everything we've been through! How can you even say those words, and mean them? You don't mean them, you're just saying them! Its you that needs to open your eyes, Bakura, not I! At what point did you stop loving? What made you so angry with the world that you had to push everyone away, just so you could-"

His desperate voice was put to a stop as Bakura finally snapped, lashing out with a snarl and winding Ryou with a punch to the gut. Ryou bent over, legs collapsing from under him as he panted, trying to get the air back into his lungs.

The chamber door was opened further as soldiers and the Pharaoh himself rushed in – Bakura was dimly amazed that he hadn't heard them coming. There was certainly no lack of noise now, as Bakura's arms were seized and held behind his back, while placing him under arrest in commanding, and, thought Bakura derisively, highly pompous, voices.

"Ryou! Ra, are you alright? What did the thief do to you? What did you do to Ryou!"

This last comment was directed to Bakura furiously, as narrowed crimson eyes were trained intensely on the thief.

"I punched him, _Pharaoh_."

Bakura spat the hated title out, watching in content as the Pharaoh's expression turned even angrier. It was at this moment, when it was highly likely that a death sentence be ordered , that Ryou finally found his voice again.

"No! I mean, please Atemu, I would speak with you alone about this..."

The Pharaoh looked shocked.

"Ryou, he just tried to kill you! He must die for what he has done, and he will pay for his crimes as every citizen of my kingdom does."

"Please, Atemu. Please, I beg this of you! If ever you were my friend, do not refuse my request! _Please!_"

The last desperate word seemed to convince Atemu, and he nodded.

"Guards. Leave us."

"But my Pharaoh-"

"I said leave."

The guards left hurriedly, not wishing to enrage the Pharaoh further.

There was a long silence as the Pharaoh gazed at Ryou, then at Bakura, seemingly deep in thought. After what seemed too long a time, Atemu finally broke the silence.

"I would hazard a guess that this... thief, is the friend you spoke of earlier?"

"He is, Atemu. I am sorry I did not tell you, but I could not. I made a promise... I couldn't just... please, I'm sorry, I-"

The Pharaoh held up a hand to stop Ryou's speech.

"What would you have me do, Ryou? This thief is a wanted criminal; he has been for many summers now, before even my reign began. All such thieves are punished by death. It is the law, I cannot just ignore that."

Ryou bowed his head, defeated. Bakura spoke up, his tone insolent.

"Let him do as he likes, Ryou – let him kill me. Better yet, why don't you let him torture me personally, hm? Bey he'd enjoy that – wouldn't you, _Pharaoh?_ Just like the rest of your accursed family!"

"..."

There was a shocked silence, as Atemu closed his eyes.

"I do not deny it", he said, quietly. "My father was not... he was a cruel man, I know this, and many were punished severely, too severely, for their crimes."

"Severely?" Bakura began laughing again, and he gestured to the scar that lined his cheek. "Do you know how I got this, Pharaoh? _Do you!_ Maybe, while your at it, you will have forgotten what lies under the floor below. That's right, directly underneath us!"

"Those chambers were sealed up the minute I became Pharaoh!"

"You expect me to believe that? You expect me to believe that you are so different from all the rest, that everything's okay just because you say it is now? You must think me foolish indeed, Pharaoh!"

"Yami...!"

Amethyst eyes regarded everyone in the chamber, as heads turned to see who now stood in the doorway.

"Yugi! You shouldn't be here, it could be dangerous!"

Yugi shrugged.

"Set looks a little miffed that he was made to stay out of the chamber; he wanted me to tell you that he could just use his Shadows to banish the Thief King", he finsihed uncertainly.

Bakura looked to the younger male, then to the Pharaoh, then to Yugi again, and smirked.

"Well well, it would seem the Pharaoh has found a lover!"

Yugi flushed scarlet, and Atemu whipped around, angry again, but Yugi began to speak and stopped him from saying anything.

"I came because I think I know what this is about. Please Yami, listen to me. You may not recognise it because of your anger, but if you were calm you would be able to see it. Ryou loves Bakura, just like..."

He trailed off, face flushing again.

"Ryou! Is this true, what Yugi says? Do you love him?"

Bakura looked up, eyes meeting the Pharaoh', then gliding over to rest on Bakura.

"Yes", he said softly, and there were three collective indrawn breaths. "You can't kill him... if you do, you must kill me also. I won't live without him."

"Ryou, you are mistaken. You simply cannot love this man, he is a thief! It is... impossible."

"Impossible, like a Pharaoh loving a slave?" asked Yugi, his voice gentle.

And Pharaoh Atemu Yami had no reply.

**I found this chapter much harder to write than the others, so I hope it turned out okay. Onegai review!**


	9. Trial by Shadows

There was a long silence, while Yugi looked imploringly at Atemu, and the Pharaoh himself looked everywhere but at Yugi. Ryou was still crouched in front of Bakura, one hand creeping closer to the Thief King's. Finally, the Pharaoh spoke.

"I am the Pharaoh of Egypt; I cannot let this thief go unpunished, Ryou. I'm sorry, but I must act in accordance with the law."

Ryou gave a cry of dismay, and Yugi looked like he was about to say something. Atemu held up his hand, however, and his lover kept quiet.

"However…"

Bakura looked up, surprised. In his experiences with Pharaoh's, there had been no 'however's' involved.

"…Because you ask, Ryou, and because you have spoken on his behalf, Yugi, I will not carry out the death sentence. Thief, listen well. I will pardon your crimes this time, but your punishment must still be carried out; I cannot simply let you go."

"Yami, what…?"

"What will happen to Bakura, Atemu?"

The Pharaoh looked the thief in the eye.

"A Shadow Trial."

"What!"

"You heard me. He must prove he is worthy of my pardon by Shadow Trial, or die. This is the only other option."

"What happens in this trial?"

"I do not know; it is different as each person is different. Perhaps he will battle with a monster; perhaps he may have to face demons of his own making. How it will end is up to him."

"Yami, that is very harsh."

Atemu inclined his head.

"I know this, partner. But will you agree?"

Yugi glanced over at Ryou, whose hand now held the thief's, and at Bakura, still glaring and seemingly unmindful of that hand.

"I do."

Ryou let out a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.

"Bakura… please…"

Bakura finally made eye contact with Ryou, and his glare relented.

"Why?" he demanded. "What difference will it make, Ryou, if I live or die? For either way, my existence is now pointless."

"Not to me", whispered Ryou. "Do it, Atemu."

And before another word could be said, the Pharaoh leaned forward, his forehead touching Yugi's. Ryou watched as both males' eyes closed. Something between them grew, and expanded outwards in a circle, until it seemed as though it encircled the whole chamber. Then the room was surrounded in complete darkness, before it was again dimly illuminated. Three bodies shakily stood up, but the fourth, Bakura's, stayed still, unconscious on the ground.

"Bakura! Bakura, wake up!"

"He will not wake", said the Pharaoh. "His mind is with the Shadows; soon he will be tested. Look."

They all watched as, at the end of the chamber, a door appeared. It opened to reveal another separate chamber, where a young boy stood, mists of darkness about his feet.

"Mama…?" he called, voice pleading. "Where did you go?"

"That is Bakura as he once was", said Atemu. "This is his memory."

Bakura sat down, tears leaking from his eyes. Were it not for his hair, Ryou would not have recognised him; the younger Bakura was paler and thinner, and had no visible scars. But his eyes were the most changed of all. They were the same colour, but no longer darkened by hidden emotions; they were almost innocent-looking, and bright with feeling.

Another man entered the second chamber; he carried a whip, and his eyes flashed in apparent excitement.

"Insolent boy!" he said, and stood over Bakura, casting a long shadow over the boy. "Your Mother is dead; I killed her."

Bakura howled, springing up and beating his fists against the man's chest; as high as he could reach. The man laughed, and Bakura punched harder, until the man gave a yell and forced him back down.

"I am your master now; you shall obey me and only me!"

"No! You killed her; you killed Mama! I hate you!"

The man smirked.

"She deserved what she got, and you will work for me now."

Bakura wouldn't hear any more, and made a grab for a familiar-looking knife from the man's belt. He succeeded in grabbing it by the hilt, and stabbed the man, who gave a roar of pain and surprise.

"Little whelp; I'll teach _you_ the meaning of pain!"

Bakura howled louder as the man beat him down once more, this time with the whip. Red welts appeared on his back, and ran crimson with his life-blood. He twisted out of the man's grip, and gave a savage roar of his own. The man gave a step back at the sound, and the knife dropped from his grip. It fell to the floor, and Bakura wasted no time in taking it in his own grip, before stabbing the man himself.

The scene darkened, and it was quiet again.

"That… that was…"

"A memory, and only that. It has never left Bakura's mind, or we would not have witnessed it. Now we shall see another one that Bakura has pushed away and not dealt with."

"Well, well, what have we here? A little thief, far away from his home."

Atemu gave a gasp.

"F-Father…"

Yugi leaned close, giving Atemu comfort as the voice grew louder. His form appeared before them, and next to the former Pharaoh laid Bakura in chains. He was younger again, but appeared to be in his teenage years, and his eyes now were wary and angry; the eyes Ryou knew well.

"And greetings to you, _Pharaoh._ Been eating well?"

The Pharaoh smirked, kicking the thief in the chest.

"Better then you have, I'm sure. It's been a while since our last encounter; this time you won't be getting away so easily."

"That's really too bad", said Bakura in cheeky tones, ignoring the fact that he was tied up and lying face down on the ground. "I enjoyed seeing your face in the dust."

Another kick to the chest, and this time Bakura couldn't keep from showing his discomfort.

"It is now _your_ face in the dust, thief! You will pay for making me look a fool, I promise you."

"What's the matter, can't deal with me on your own without resorting to violence, _Pharaoh?_ You truly are pathetic."

Atemu winced and looked ashamed as he saw his father produce a long handled knife, making a deep incision on the thief's cheek. A scar for life would be left by that cut, he knew.

"It wasn't your fault", said Yugi, quietly. "You're not him, Yami, and never will be."

The scene faded again.

"Oh Ra. Bakura… I thought… you never told me…"

Ryou looked very distressed, as he held the real Bakura's limp body in his arms. He gave a gasp.

"He's so cold!"

Atemu nodded.

"Yes. It looks as if he will have to wake up; that is his trial. He does not wish to face these memories which he has kept hidden from the world and from himself for so long, but now he will have to if he does not want to stay in this place of memories forever. His soul will be lost among the Shadows if he does not wake and face them."

"Bakura! Ra, wake up, please wake up!"

But Bakura did not stir when Ryou shook him, and he stayed cold under Ryou's hands as Ryou rubbed him in an attempt to bring back the warmth.

"Bakura…!"

**I'm quite pleased with how this chapter turned out; I thought it was time for some more action. I hope everyone liked it – please review and tell me how I did. Liked it, hated it, think I can improve by doing something, suggestions for next chapter? Bring 'em on!**


	10. Trial by Shadows pt2

Before anything else could be said, the room darkened yet again; this time it stayed darker for longer before lightening to reveal a lone Bakura, sitting in the sand. Ryou wondered why Bakura had to face this memory; he could see no other people around, and Bakura appeared neither angry nor distraught. His face, now older again and a lot like the Bakura he knew, was almost completely blank, his eyes staring off into the distance and unseeing.

"Why…?"

Ryou trailed off, noticing that Bakura had his fingers in the sand. They trailed across the rough golden surface, one hand buried. The other was smoothing down the sand, making it flat. Then he wrote one word, scratching deep. 'Whore', it said, and Ryou found he was feeling very distressed at this one word. Bakura looked down, eyes focusing. He seemed to come to himself, and dark eyes sharpened before he scattered the sand, and violently removing the word he himself had written.

"Bakura. I'm so sorry, I didn't know… please come back."

As the room dimmed again, Ryou glanced down at Bakura's body. It had not moved.

"Thief! Worthless piece of shit, you're nothing!"

"Get back here, dirty thief!"

"Ra-dammed tomb robber!"

"Father says you're nothing but a coward and a liar!"

This scene was very brief – Bakura ran out of what appeared to be a busy village. People ran after him: not soldiers, but simple villagers if Ryou's assumptions taken by the threadbare clothing and general grubbiness were correct. They had no actual weapons other than one or two rusted daggers. The children were throwing stones. The pieces of jagged rock were tiny but sharp-edged, and Ryou saw that Bakura's body was littered with many small cuts; none enough to seriously wound, but all enough to sting, if Bakura's expression was anything to judge by.

"Fuck you!" Bakura snarled, impatiently. He still ran, although Ryou didn't think it was from fear. The adults eventually stopped running, but the children, some looking very young, continued to throw the stones until Bakura disappeared from their range. Even then they continued to bombard him with insults, and their words were loud and strong with their harsh language.

Ryou felt he might cry from such a scene, but he held the prickling at the back of his eyes from showing itself in visible form, and instead concentrated on what was happening in front of him, for the chamber had changed again.

There was rubble all around, and Bakura stood, transfixed as were the others around him. They did not appear hostile; Bakura blended in with the crowd, and everyone looked dazed and confused.

"That was Kenmet", whispered Atemu from behind Ryou. "The time of The Great Earthquake, in which thousands died. It used to be a great city: now it is but rabble and ash of the dead. I became Pharaoh later that day, when I learned that my Father…"

Yugi made a noise as if to speak but then seemed to change his mind, instead just choosing to lean against the Pharaoh gently.

"So, the Pharaoh is dead…" mused Bakura to himself, away from the other villagers. "A new Pharaoh shall arrive… Pharaoh Atemu if I am not mistaken." He gave a snort of contempt. "Just like before. He looks exactly like his Father."

Ryou glanced around, in time to see the fleeting stricken look pass on Atemu's face.

"I do", he said quietly.

Meanwhile, Bakura still looked thoughtful.

"Same abominable fashion sense too, no doubt", he finally said.

Yugi gave a small giggle, and Ryou, despite the gravity of the situation, couldn't suppress a smile. The comment, though perhaps not entirely true, did manage to break up the tension that had been steadily mounting.

The room went dark, and it was pitch black for some time; the longest it had been so far. Finally, as if from a fog, the dark began to lift. When it had lightened sufficiently enough to see by, Ryou gave a gasp. What he was looking at was… himself.

Bakura stood; his face a picture of amazement, in front of the other Ryou, who looked back at him, completely unafraid in spite of a knife at his throat.

"Ryou..?"

"It was when I first met him", he answered to Atemu's question, knowing what he was really being asked. "In the old house, before I set out on my travels."

And it was. Ryou, realising what would happen next, flushed in embarrassment as the story played out in front of his eyes. Bakura, threatening to kill him… Bakura, a look of _something_ in his eye, pressing the knife hard against his throat… Bakura, kissing him…. and himself, kissing right back…

"Uh… yes, that was the first time we, er… met…"

Atemu couldn't hold back a kind of smirk, and Yugi's eyes reflected wonder.

"Wow, Ryou, I never would have thought…"

Ryou flushed again darkly.

Beside him, Bakura's body gave a twitch.

"Bakura! He moved, I swear he did…"

"We shall see", said the Pharaoh.

In a blink, the story took on a twist as it changed again, and Ryou felt a kind of despair as everything he had gone through was seen by both Yugi and the Pharaoh.

"By Ra, that man deserved his fate", growled Atemu at one point, as he saw what Bakura had witnessed after the ball. Yugi, despite his more innocent outlook on life, could only nod in agreement as he flinched at the scene in front of him. This time it was the Pharaoh's turn to give comfort.

"Never again, my partner", he whispered, caressing Yugi's cheek softly. "I promise you."

Bakura gave an audible groan.

"Bakura… _Bakura!_ Please, you have to wake up, come on; I know you can do it! Fight them, Bakura, I know you're strong enough!"

Bakura gave another groan, and his body twisted while his hands were clenched into fists. His eyes twitched, but he did not wake.

In front of them, the scene had moved on, and it was another Ryou recognised very well. He saw the knife once again drawn out, saw and heard Bakura yell, witnessed the knife spiralling through the air to hit the ground with a sharp rasp. Saw Bakura run, furious, out of the house and down the path, before Ryou could watch no more and turned his head, shaking Bakura's body again.

"Bakura! Please wake up, you have to wake up! _Bakura!_"

"… No…"

The sound was hardly more than a breath of air, but it was said nonetheless, from a curled up Bakura. "… No, I… I can't…"

Ryou's eyes widened and he shook Bakura harder, gasping in fright at how frozen the thief's body felt. Marble, or ice, and so unresponsive against his own warmer fingers…

"Bakura! Bakura…. _Bakura!_"

The last word was said with such force that the chamber itself seemed to shake in response, and the story still playing out in front of them wavered and died out.

And slowly, so slowly Ryou wondered if Ra wasn't playing tricks with his mind, Bakura's eyes opened.

**This was… hard. Very hard, so I'm really really hoping its okay. Please review – last chapter I didn't get too many. :( Anyway, I'm still debating with myself on what to cover next chapter, so any suggestions in with the review of this chapter would be appreciated… Now go review! ;)**


	11. WakeUp Call

_A voice. A voice in the darkness; he is calling my name..._

"Bakura… _Bakura!_ Please, you have to wake up, come on; I know you can do it! Fight them, Bakura, I know you're strong enough!"

_No, leave me alone, I want to stay here..._

"Bakura! Please wake up, you have to wake up! _Bakura!_"

_Please, its not so painful here, just let me stay..._

"Bakura! Bakura…. _Bakura!_"

_Who is it? Who's calling me... I have to answer..._

Slowly, Bakura dragged open heavy eyes, and looked straight into another pair, brown and watering and desperately searching for-

"Bakura!"

Bakura would have gotten up, except that a pair of arms had encircled him, pinning the thief to the ground. Bewildered, he stared at the person on top of him, who was now sobbing quite unresteainedly into his chest. But who...?

"Ryou...?"

Everything started flooding back with a rush, and Bakura groaned, feeling a headache coming on.

"Bakura, what's wrong? Are you hurt, can you speak, can you get up, are you-"

"I'm fine", he interrupted. "And no, I can't get up. You're lying on me."

"I... oh! Oh Gods, I'm so sorry..."

Flushing scarlet, Ryou clambered up, and suddenly remembered that they were being watched.

"Uh... Atemu?"

The Pharaoh sighed.

"Yes. It is over. The Shadow Trial has ended: I declare the punishment fulfilled."

There was a long silence, and Bakura pieced everything together.

"Wait just a second, Pharaoh! Are you telling me that you invaded my memories!"

"In effect, yes."

"Why you... you...!"

The thief seemed completely lost for words, and Ryou glanced at him nervously.

"It was either that or take the death penalty, Bakura..."

Bakura glared even more, his eyes reduced to two dark slits burning with fury.

"Those memories were private, and you just watched everything go by! I'll kill you for that!"

He made a move for his knife, but Ryou stayed his hand.

"Please, Bakura, he just spared your life! If he can do that, can you not spare his?"

"The Thief King worries unnecessarily", said Atemu. His voice was quiet, but nonetheless all heads turned to listen.

"Explain yourself", Bakura hissed.

"Very well. A Shadow Trial like this uses Shadow Magic. It is a special magic used only for extremes – it is sacred and not to be taken lightly. It is for that reason that everyone who witnessed it other than the one who was punished himself will forget all that he has seen soon after. I expect it will take effect soon; in a while we will remember that a Trial was done, but the memories we have seen will be erased from our minds forever."

"So... only Bakura will remember what just happened?"

Atemu nodded.

"Yes. The memories will become nothing more than a blur to both Yugi and I, certainly."

"What about me?"

"Its hard to say, Ryou. Likely they will also be erased from your memory. But there have been cases... if two people are connected in such a way... well, we shall see. It may be the final test", the Pharaoh finished, with perhaps the hint of a smirk on his face.

And Bakura hated that smirk.

"I'm leaving", he abruptly said.

Aremu nodded.

"Yes... yes, you must leave, immediately. Your crimes by law still warrant the death sentence – I as Pharaoh cannot change that. But, I gave you my word. You may leave unharmed, although next time, I cannot guarantee your life. Go."

Bakura strode out the door, Ryou stopping him again before he disappeared.

"Please don't leave me alone."

Bakura looked back, ready to tell Ryou sharply that he didn't want him around. But, as he looked into now familiar deep brown orbs, the words refused to pass his lips.

"I will meet you later", he finally said. "No doubt you will want to speak with the _Pharaoh_ first."

He curled his lip, unable to stop the automated response he had practiced for years. Then he left, and the Pharaoh instructed two guards outside to see him out. Ryou had to smile at Bakura giving the High Priest Set a mock-salute and smirk in passing; Set looked absolutely furious, but was too dignified to yell after him. He settled for his trademark glare instead, then levelled it at Atemu, before the door closed again, and silence resumed. Nobody seemed to know what to say.

"Well", said Yugi, brightly. "That turned out well."

"Hm. Well for the Thief King, maybe. I have a feeling I'll be soon chasing after him again."

Yugi shrugged.

"Ryou loves him. He'll keep him on track, won't you, Ryou?"

Ryou blushed yet again, wondering whether he shouldn't just paint his face permanantly red.

"I... um, don't know. I don't know if Bakura..."

"He does", said Yugi confidently. "Just tell him, and see if he doesn't. He will, you'll see..."

His eyes, closing slowly, drifted shut, and he sagged back into Atemu, who looked alarmed for a moment then relaxed again.

"Shadow Magic", he said. "Takes a lot out of a person. I do believe we had out sleep interrupted, also."

He wrapped both arms securely around the smaller boy before regarding Ryou again.

"Well? Do you intend to go after him?"

Tired or not, his gaze was sharp as ever as he waited for Ryou's answer.

"Yes. I love him, Atemu. I can't just let him go... I'm sorry."

"No." The Pharaoh shook his head, stifling a yawn. "You cannot help who you love, any more than... well, than anyone can, I suppose. Just ask Set." He grinned, suddenly looking almost like a mischevious boy once again. "I cannot see you any differently. You are my frined, Ryou – no matter what, I promise you that will never change. Now. Go and claim what you have a right to."

Ryou nodded, gave a fleeting smile at one of his most trusted friends, and set off at a run, tossing over his shoulder only one remark.

"See you in a few summers maybe!"

And, thought the Pharaoh to himself, if Ryou _did_ leave with the thief, then no doubt he would certainly be kept busy enough trying to stop certain bad habits... he supposed some people just weren't meant to be tied down.

Wearily, he trudged back into his own chambers, with the sleeping Yugi in his arms and ignoring his High Priest, who looked like he was about to explode.

"In the morning", he mumbled, and Set muttered something back that _sounded_ like pompous Pharaoh's, but couldn't have been, because High Priests _always_ repected the Pharaoh completely.

Meanwhile, across sand that glinted with a hint of golden in the pre-dawn light, a silhouette moved up a dune, glancing back as a following person followed him at a run, determined to catch up.

Heart beating just a little faster, Bakura waited.

**Wow. I am very very sorry about this chapter - first in its lateness, and second because my inspiration abandoned me and left me to write this chapter on my own - I personally don't think it turned out as well as the previous chapters did. Either way, here it is, please review because I love reading them. I am still not really happy with the chapter overall, so I hope its still readable. Hopefully next time...**  



	12. Spoiled Goods

The fire crackled and spat, sending golden-orange flares into the sky. Ryou and Bakura sat opposite each other, their legs crossed and hands held out to warm them. Ryou searched Bakura's face, but the shadows hid his expression well, and his eyes were clouded in thought.

After catching up to Bakura that morning, they had simply walked. If Bakura had a location in mind, he did not say, and Ryou did not ask. They had not talked at all – Bakura did not tell Ryou to leave, though, and so Ryou followed, first behind the thief and, pressing his luck and finding that Bakura did not object, beside him, their hands almost but not still never quite touching. And then, finally, as the sun set and the sky turned red and then orange and then the colour of deepest blue, they had stopped.

"Bakura."

Bakura looked up, but still kept his silence, waiting for what Ryou had to say.

"Do you love me?"

Whatever Bakura had expected, if anything, it had not been this. He was startled into speech.

"Yes. No. I don't know."

"I love you. You know that... don't you?"

Bakura shrugged.

"You think you do. Love is not for thieves. I cannot afford that luxury."

Ryou leaned forward, intent on proving that it was indeed possible, but Bakura jerked back, and stood up, for all the world retreating.

"Stay back! Dammit, Ryou, I can't... its not... go find another person like you to love! Someone who's just as foolish and idealistic. But I live in the real world – I'm not part of your fantasy."

"Its not a fantasy."

Bakura crouched again, absently drawing with his finger in the sand.

"Go find someone more... more worthy."

Ryou walked around and sat down beside the thief, close but carefully not touching him.

"Do you think I cannot choose for myself who is worthy and who is not? I'm not a child; not anymore. I know you – and I do love you, I don't care what-"

"You saw them! You saw my memories, even if by now the memories fade from your mind. I am not fit to be anyone's lover – especially not yours. The things I have done... what I've seen..."

"What? Tell me... please!"

"Spoiled goods."

Ryou leapt up now, his eyes showing fear.

"... What did you say?"

Bakura was confused, wondering what was going on. Something clicked in the back of his mind... what had Ryou said before, when sentences were let slip...

"_...You think you're the only one who's had it rough?..."_

Yes, it all started to make sense. Why Ryou pushed so damn hard...

"_...You think you're the only one who doesn't have a family, who's seen death and blood and pain..."_

Ra! How could he have been so stupid? After all this time, and he did not see it, and it had been right in front of his very nose...

"_... You think you're the only one with scars?..."_

And then, just before he left after the whole... incident with the Pharaoh, his last plea... Ra, it was so obvious!

"_...Please don't leave me alone..."_

"I think", said Bakura quietly, "that it is you who is afraid of love now, not I."

Ryou was still standing, his arm unconsiously held up in a defensive position, and his eyes were wide with fright.

"What do you mean? I'm not..."

"Yes you are. Do not deny it. Ryou-"

"Leave me alone!"

He was shaking now, Bakura could see, and his eyes were not only widened but also darkened so that they were almost black. Bakura inched closer, reaching out one wiry tan arm. And, as Bakura had suspected, Ryou flinched away, confirming what he already knew, deep down, if he had bothered to look just deep enough.

"Something happened, didn't it? But you didn't tell me, because you were afraid... of me? No, that's not right... you were afraid I would leave if I knew..."

Almost frozen in shock and fear, Ryou slowly nodded.

"Sit."

Ryou automatically did so, getting as close to the fire as he could but feeling as though he would never be warmed.

"Alright. Listen, and I'll say this only once. I have been through much. I've seen death... I've _caused_ death. So what could make you think that _I _would leave _you_, when it should have been the other way around..."

The silence stretched out, and there was absolute quiet until the whisper came, Ryou's voice strained with the effort of holding back tears.

"You said it yourself. Spoiled goods."

"What? But..."

"Its what he said. When I was a child... before I met the Pharaoh. It was so long ago, and I'm still... I still can't... my dreams-"

"Stop. Ryou, you have to start from the beginning. If you tell me... no. If you don't, you'll have to live like this for the rest of your life. You can't tell me that is what you want."

"No."

"'No' you don't want to, or 'no' you won't tell me?"

"No... I don't want to."

"Then, you will tell me?"

Ryou nodded, sagging against Bakura for support as if drained.

"So cold..."

"The caves. Let's go, I will take you there."

Bakura threw sand over the fire and lead Ryou by one hand, while the other held a torch by which to light the way. Nearly an hour they walked, until-

"Here."

Ryou looked up, seeing that they were now in a concealed cave of sorts. Ledges carved in just below the roof held blankets and other items of use – waterskins, candles, dried fruits, rough clothing for protection against the harsh elements... Bakura had collected them all over the years, creating a hidden place of safe haven where he could live, if absolutely necessary, for at least a few days.

"My hideout. Its not much, but... well. Home, I guess. If you know where to go, you can hide out for many days and still live. But, if you get lost in the labrynth... there are many stories of how people disappeared inside them, never to be seen again."

Ryou sank to the floor, while Bakura got busy making up another smaller fire, and got down blankets. Two, he tossed to Bakura, and kept the last for himself. He also threw what appeared to be roughly woven mats down to the ground.

"These should provide a little protection against the hardness of the ground. Spread it out, it will have to do."

Numbly, Ryou did as he was instructed, finally lying, exhausted, facing the fire for as much warmth as he could get, while Bakura did the same on his side. At length both were lying down, stretched out and in reasonable comfort.

"I like it here", said Ryou, quietly.

"Why?"

"Because. Its home. Your home."

"Its only a system of caves."

"That doesn't matter. Its still your home... and, I don't have one of those, you see."

"What? But the house where I met you..."

"Wasn't really my home", admitted Ryou. "It is mine, of course, but it is not a home. I rarely live there, its just a shelter for when I'm not travelling."

"Then, you don't have a home... at all?"

"No", said Ryiu, and his voice was so quiet that it was a mere breath.

"Tell me."

Bakura waited, and Ryou, after breathing deeply and closing his eyes, began his story.

**Yay, another chapter done! Next chapter – Ryou's story.**


	13. Ryou's Story

"Spoiled goods."

"What?"

"The fruits", said the old man looking after a cart in the market. "They're too dried to sell, and after the cart tipped they are bruised as well. Nothing for it – you can't sell spoiled goods, for no-one will buy them now."

"Oh", said Ryou, understanding.

That morning he had gone to the market for his Father – he was to buy all the supplies for the trip that he and his Father would undertake – together. It gave Ryou a sense of pride; his Father was an important man, he knew, for he was in charge of overseeing the work taking part all over Egypt in celebration of the Pharaoh. He and his Father would travel all over Egypt, seeing all the grand towns and the new statues being put up.

"You see, Ryou", his Father had told him, "the Pharaoh is all powerful – they say that Ra himself has given the Pharaoh his blessings. And I am in charge of seeing these blessings in physical form. My job is very important, and you-"

"I get to help!" Ryou had never been more happy when his Father had nodded. Several days later, his Father began packing. And today, it was finally happening – they were leaving, and would seek wonder and excitement and adventure on their travels, just him and his Father. When Ryou grew up, he had resolved to be just like him.

Almost running home in his eagerness, Ryou rushed to the door, opening it with a crash.

"Father! Father, I bought... Father...?"

The house was empty, and his Father's pack was gone.

"Father..."

Ryou beamed, realising his Father was most likely waiting outside for him. He would be right there, on top of that sand dune, with his pack and his knife in belt for protection, and then as soon as Ryou joined him they would be off to see the world...

"Father?"

His voice echoed one last time, before Ryou ran outside again, and sprinted off the street and up to the sand dune, where he just _knew_ his Father would be waiting for him...

His Father was not there.

_Don't leave me..._

His Father was not there the next day, either, or the next, or the next, or...

After a while it didn't seem to matter anymore, and Ryou had stopped thinking about where his Father was gone. It didn't matter where, the only thing that mattered now was that his Father was gone, and Ryou was by himself... but, if he just clung to the notion that his Father might some day return... if he only waited long enough...

_...Don't leave me alone..._

Soon after there was a great shaking. Ryou, still sitting in the house where he had for days, stood up on shaky legs and out of the house. Just in time, because only a moment later the house, built long ago, caved in from the roof as the ground shook violently. There was noise all around, but it was confused, and the roaring of the ground swallowed up Ryou's scream. There were other people too. There mouths were open like Ryou's – he supposed they were also screaming, but curiously Ryou could not hear the sound. There was nothing, just a ringing in his ears and that terrible roar which seemed to go on for hours... even when the fires began, and soldiers rushed through, and people ran past him, unmindful of a small scrawny boy who sat, traumatised, Ryou could not hear any of it.

And then there was just the silence, and Ryou found he was lying down somehow, among great ruin. There were no people there now, and Ryou was uncertain exactly what had happened. He did not recognise anything – although he was sure he was in the same place, the town had, in a short space of time, been transformed into nothing Ryou could recognise at all, try as he might. Where were the buildings... the market... the homes...?

The wind blew, and Ryou shivered without knowing why; he was not cold. In fact, he could strangely feel nothing at all. He found he could not move at all, not even his fingers or his toes. And, closing his eyes, he did move for a long time afterwards.

When Ryou eventually woke again, he was in a different place. There was only sand around him; turning his head, he could at last see people. They were dressed roughly in clothes the same colour as the sand and of dirt, and their voices were harsher and more clipped than Ryou had heard anyone's before.

Opening his mouth to say something, he could only cough.

"Well, it seems our new slave has awoken."

From then on, Ryou was just that. He was whipped often, though not hard – the slave master had ordered that no mark would mar his paler-than-usual skin. Ryou was not whipped because of his work – he worked hard, wanting to please his master in the hoped of one day gaining his freedom. However, he was often found gazing into the distance, or standing atop a hill rather than actually working. Not because he was lazy, or tired (though he was much of the time), but because he was still watching in the hopes of one day seeing a familiar figure coming over that hill, perhaps laden with riches from other lands and cities, and with news of the outside world.

It never happened. When Ryou once again traded masters some weeks later, he landed in the care of one who was not so kind. In fact, not really a master at all. He wasn't much of anything, thought Ryou. Just another man like himself – lonely and without another to care for him.

How exactly the incident occurred, Ryou was unsure. All he knew was that, one day, the man had a funny look in his eye, and that was scary.

"Come with me", said the man.

And Ryou, not knowing what was about to happen, followed him into a darker place, which smelled of rubbish and dead animal and urine and stale wine. Ryou was suddenly forced against a wall. Panicking, he tried to back out of the man's grasp, but in response the man only squeezed his wrists harder.

The next few moments all passed in a blur. There was a great deal of physical pain, that Ryou was sure of. There was also a voice screaming, no, no... But the man seemed to like that, and Ryou was aware only afterwards that it was himself screaming those words.

"You're spoiled goods, now", said the man. "You're spoiled goods, you're nothing, just like me!"

And the phrase repeated in his mind, over and over and over again like a mantra...

_Spoiled goods, spoiled goods, spoiled goods..._

There was pain afterwards too, but by then Ryou was more concerned with his hazy vision, and also the fact that the man had walked away. Ryou had learned by now that waiting was useless, so he got up and walked away, ignoring the bruises that sent jolts like electric shocks all up his body whenever he took a step.

Five days later, Ryou saw the man again – he was dead, slumped against a wall. Ryou walked on by, feeling nothing.

And, two days after that, Ryou collapsed in front of the palace, right there on the steps. The guards, taking him for a drunkard, made to drag him away, or perhaps kill him for even daring to pass out on the new ruler's very own doorstep, but Pharaoh Yami Atemu intervened. Or so Isis the Healer informed him when he next awoke the next day. She was very kind, pressing him gently about what had happened and treating his bruises. Ryou told her about everything, and her cool eyes passed no judgement, as she told him in measured tones that from now on he would be living there in the palace while he recovered.

The Pharaoh was also very kind – and, once Ryou had gotten over his initial fear and shock of actually speaking with Atemu face to face, the two soon became fast friends. Both young men had been forced to outgrow their childhood very quickly; they found they had much in common.

Ryou's wounds soon healed, but never again did he talk of his earlier days, nor of his childhood. He lived in the palace, and worked often as Atemu's helper in matters of economical, and occasionally political state. When the Pharaoh met a young boy by the name of Yugi, a former ill-treated slave, his friendship extended to include him, as well as a few other nobles around the palace, and even a shaky friendship with Atemu's High Priest, Set.

And only Yugi, and perhaps the ever-sharp gaze of Isis ever saw Ryou's loneliness, or the fact that in his heart, there was a gaping hole that no friend, even one like Yugi or Atemu, could ever fill.

At night, his dreams were haunted by a nameless voice, still chanting the same line.

_...Spoiled goods..._

**Aw. Okay, I amazed myself with the sheer content of angst I managed to cram this chapter with, and I hope nobody minds or thinks that its grossly over the top (which it probably is).**

**I shall now indulge is some shameless advertising: I have tried my hand at a bit of original fiction – if anyone would like to read and perhaps review this, the story is on the FictionPress website, the story entitled Puddle Dancing.  
Reviews would be lovely; I may or may not continue this, as thus far I have absolutely no idea where the storyline will go. Any ideas/flashes of inspiration will be welcomed in the review if you choose to read it.**


	14. Healing

When Ryou's voice eventually faded, both he and Bakura simply lay there, letting the crackling of the fire fill the silence. Bakura turned his head a little, and could not help the flash of concern and almost panic that went through his mind at Ryou's appearance.

He was so pale, almost an ivory colour, as if all the blood had simply drained from his face. His hands, clenched around his blanket, were a similar colour, and shaking. A tiny trickle of blood made its way down Ryou's palm; his hands were clenched so tightly that his nail had bitten into the soft skin and made it weep crimson – a harsh contrast against the alabaster skin tone.

"Ryou..."

Ryiu's eyes were blank; they stared straight ahead and did not move when Bakura said his name.

"Ryou."

Still Ryou's eyes did not move, but Bakura noticed that his fingers twitched a little as though in answer.

"Ryou!"

Ryou jerked bus head upwards, and suddenly the tears broke forth, streaming from Ryou's eyes in a steady flow. He whimpered slightly, and curled up into a ball for protection.

Bakura, not knowing what else to do, followed his instincts. He moved closer, around to Ryou's side of the fire, and wrapped his arms around Ryou's shaking form. The thief didn't say anything – just rocked Ryou back and forth very softly, letting the tears come. Ryou, after tensing up for a moment, let himself be rocked, leaning in to Bakura for support as the action triggered the vaguest of memories of a mother long gone.

"Don't... don't leave... please don't leave!"

"I won't."

"T-that's what they all... and then he left, and I waited... I waited so long, he didn't come back...!"

"It'll be alright, I promise I won't leave. I swear it."

"Why didn't he come back...? I waited and waited... what did I do... what did I do wrong..."

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"He was right."

"Who?"

"The man... the man with the fruits in the cart... spoiled... goods..."

Ryou's body gave another shudder, and Bakura cursed under his breath. If he couldn't get Ryou to calm down somehow...

Ryou's breathing was getting quicker, though, and also shallower.

"Calm down... come on, Ryou, you have to breathe deeply, please just calm down..."

But it was not enough, and Ryou's eyes still stared blankly ahead, seeing things that were in his past.

"I waited... I'm still waiting... he said I was spoiled goods, and that's why... that's why he didn't come back!"

"Ryou! Snap out of it, its over! Please just look!"

"What...?"

Encouraged by the response, Bakura took Ryou's face in his hands, looking straight into his eyes.

"_Look at me, Ryou!_"

Ryou didn't say anything this time, but his eyes began to clear, like a fog was being lifted from him.

"Bakura...?"

"Yes, its me! Now _breathe_, Ra-dammit!"

Ryou gave a strangled gasp, and finally took a deep breath, and then another. Very slowly, his cheeks became a little less pale as he felt the warmth of Bakura's hands on them. His hands uncurled a little, and Bakura bent to look at the wound, still trickling slightly.

"Not too deep. Good."

"Bakura... don't leave...?"

"I won't. Go to sleep for now, Ryou."

"Will you... you'll be..."

Bakura nodded, already knowing the half-formed question.

"Yes. When you wake up, I'll be right here."

"Alright."

Ryou's eyes stayed open, though, and Bakura searched his mind for something to make them rest. What was something people did to make children or babies sleep... something occurred to him, and Bakura initially forced the idea back down, dismissing it as ridiculous. A good thief never resorted to something _that_ desperate...

Seeing Ryou looking at him with those huge eyes, though, made Bakura change his opinion, and, with the hint of a blush at doing something he was so unaccustomed to and usually thought of derisively, he began to hum.

Ryou looked on in faint surprise, but wisely kept his silence. Encouraged, Bakura hummed a little louder, and his montone became an actual snippet of song – one he vaguely remembered from somewhere... a long time ago...

But that didn't matter, because Ryou was there, and his body was slowly relaxing again, and his eyes not so wide. Furiously blushing now and hoping Ryou would not see, he was relieved when Ryou's eyes slid shut, and his breathing evened out even more, and his body sagged completely against Bakura's. Gently, the Thief King laid him down, facing the fire.

* * *

It was still very early when Bakura awoke from his half-doze beside Ryou. Unsure what had returned him to awareness, he glanced at the young male beside him, bundled up inside the blankets. His closed eyes were dark against the paleness of his face. 

"Bakura..."

"I thought you were asleep", replied Bakura to the sound of his whispered name.

"No. I was scared you were gone."

"Don't you trust me?"

Ryou opened his eyes, gazing solemnly at Bakura.

"Its been awhile since I've trusted anyone."

"The same goes with me. The Thief King trusts nobody but himself, now. At least, that was the rule..."

"I think... I like you better this way. Its you."

"Hmph. Maybe so, but still... well, we're the same now, I guess. We'll both have to learn to trust again... eventually. Even if..."

"If... what?"

But Bakura didn't answer, not wanting to finish the though he had said out loud.

"Bakura?"

"What?"

"How do you know... I mean, I know you don't want to leave _now_, but-"

"Enough! The Thief King never breaks his word!" said Bakura emphatically, folding his arms. He reminded Ryou of a stubborn child, and he couldn't help but smile at the image.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing. You are. Love you."

Ryou's eyes closed again, and this time did not open. He snored softly, and Bakura moved towards what was left of the fire.

The Thief King sat there for a long time, waiting for the dawn, and pondered things, and the shadows danced about him from the leftover glowing embers.

**I'm very sorry for the shortness of this chapter, but I didn't want to carry on, 'cos what's coming next will likely be the last chapter for this fic. If there is anything in the next chapter that people especially would like to see included, don't hesitate to tell me so in a review. Or, you can email me personally – my address is accessible from my profile page.**

**Wah! No reviews for 'Puddle Dancing'? Instructions for finding this new fic was put in the last chapter, so if anyone still wants to read that, its still posted up there! If it sucks though, please tell me, and I'll take it down.**


	15. A New Beginning

Poke.

"Mmmph! Go 'way, I'm not getting up."

Poke. Poke poke.

"Piss off."

Poke poke. Po-

"Argh! I'm up already, so what the fuck are y- oh. Hey, Ryou."

Ryou smiled cheerfully.

"Morning, Bakura!"

"Uh... yeah. Morning."

Bakura was somewhat surprised, to say the least, at finding such an awake and aware Ryou in front of him – yet, there he was, just as he had looked when Bakura had first encountered him. His face was still pale but no longer a deathly white, and his eyes gleamed with liveliness once more.

"You... um, look a lot better. Frankly, you looked bloody awful last night."

Ryou nodded, smile fading slightly to be replaced by a puzzled look.

"Yeah, that's the rather odd thing. I felt so tired last night, and really weak also, but now... well, I don't know. I feel ready again, though to do what I wouldn't know. Move on, I guess."

"Hmm."

Bakura, with a practiced eye, ran his gaze up and down Ryou, checking for any sign of weakness or illness. Remarkably, Ryou looked none the worse for wear, other than extremely grubby. Ryou flushed a little under Bakura's gaze, and looked away.

"Sorry about everything", he whispered. "I didn't mean to make you-"

"Shut up, will you? Now let's go – you're obviously able to walk, and you look like shit, no offense. Time to get ourselves cleaned up."

Bakura stalked out, leaving Ryou to scramble after him.

"But where are we going? We're in the middle of a desert, we'll never find- ooohhh!"

Ryou's sentence was cut abruptly short as he caught sight of something previously hidden behind the rock face.

"Yes. An oasis. No illusion, I assure you. Even the Thief King must get himself clean some time."

"... Wow..."

Ryou's voice was awestruck – he had heard of such places, but never had he seen somewhere so tranquil in somewhere so seemingly desolate.

"Hardly anybody knows the existence of this. Its because its hidden by the caves, and they are believed to be cursed, so nobody comes here other than the most desperate. Or the most foolish."

"But... the legends..."

"Are my own doing, and the doing of those before me. The thieves protect their own with great fierceness... the caves we slept in last night? They are what you no doubt know as 'Kaalin Aquert.' – the caves of the Underworld. Long ago they were used as a burial ground for the dead warriors from battle."

"We slept with the dead?"

"No. The dead are far underground. We slept on the surface."

"And, the curse laid upon the ground...? That was really..."

"Either my doing, or others that have protected this place over the years. Why is it, do you think, that the legends sprung up in the first place? A forbidden oasis, where those who dare to drink simply disappear, never to be seen or heard of again? Those that discover this place must keep their silence, or the likes of me would have no safe haven. And those who cannot be trusted to keep silent..."

Ryou nodded, and Bakura saw he did not need to speak further.

"Now. Come, we will drink and wash."

Seeing Ryou's hesitation, he added impatiently, "there is no curse, I assure you. And the waters here are clean – no blood has been spilled into the pools, and there lies a separate one for drinking."

Ryou nodded again, walking slowly forward.

They reached the first pool, and drunk deeply, cupping their hands to hold the cool liquid. The rocks screened all from view behind them – Ryou could see how anyone just casually passing would never see the oasis unless they knew exactly where to go.

When they had drunk their full, Bakura turned, water still dripping from his chin, and grinned a wild, feral grin.

"Now we wash... so, clothes off, for they will need to be cleansed also."

"W-what?"

Bakura grinned further as Ryou flushed a deep scarlet.

"U-um... are you sure... I mean, I'm pretty sure I would be okay with waiting a couple of days until- uh... Bakura?"

But the thief was no longer listening, and had stripped completely in the blink of an eye, running with a war cry to jump headfirst into the waters of the second pool. He popped up with a splash and another yell a moment later.

"Move it, Ryou, the water's fine! _I'm_ not afraid you see me... what are _you_ afraid of?"

His voice was mocking, and Ryou took the bait.

"Me? Afraid? I'll show you, Thief King!"

He started stripping, abandoning his clothes in a heap on top of the rocks. Half way through he realised just what he was doing, and flushed even more deeply, looking up to see Bakura watching the show with fascination.

"Hey! What did you stop for, I was enjoying that!"

"'Kura... uh, just turn around for a minute. Please?"

At the pleading tone, Bakura growled to himself but complied, turning so that Ryou could have his privacy. Ryou quickly removed his lower clothing, and inched himself into the frigid waters, yelping.

"C-cold!"

"Don't be such a baby!"

Without warning, and before Ryou could realise what was happening, Bakura had grabbed hold of his legs and pulled both himself and Ryou under, dragging down until he felt the stirring dirt underneath his feet. Waiting a good few seconds, he released his grip on Ryou's ankles, and both came floating to the top, Ryou gasping and Bakura grinning victoriously.

"Bakura! What was that for!"

Bakura shrugged, unconcerned.

"You're hair was dirty. I decided to wash it for you."

Bakura decided that Ryou was quite scary when he was angry, and ducked to avoid a clenched fist heading for his face. Taking a breath and ducking under again, he avoided a futile kick from Ryou and surfaced on the other side.

"You know, you're really quite beautiful. Why would you try and hide that from everybody?"

Ryou stopped his fist in mid-air, dropping it with a splash.

"You... you think I'm..."

"Beautiful, yes. What, nobody's ever called you beautiful before?"

Dumbfounded, Ryou shook his head in a negative.

"No... they called me cute, and then pretty, and then just slave. And in the palace, no-one dared to call me anything but my name..."

The cleansing ended with Ryou attempting to get out all the tangles in Bakura's hair.

"Honestly! I don't even know how you got so many in the first place – if you just looked after it-"

"I'm a traveller, Ryou, I haven't time for silly things like _hair._"

"Well, now you are going to have time."

"The Thief King takes orders from nobody!" said Bakura, puffing up his chest. He altered his opinion, though, at a fierce look from Ryou who, despite what Bakura referred to as 'puny, practically non-existent' muscles, could evidently hold his own in a fist fight, at least for a little while, should he get annoyed enough.

Finally out of the water and the sun approaching its highest point, Ryou collapsed beside Bakura in a heap. Needless to say, they did not stay still for long – not with Ryou and Bakura still damp and still without a stitch of clothing to cover them, and nobody to see.

And, due to a teasing comment or two from the thief, Ryou soon got angry again, which ended, not with a fist, but with a bruising, completely breath-taking kiss from Bakura, eagerly taken and given back by Ryou, however lithe and delicate he may have looked.

There was one moment where Ryou, memories flooding back to haunt him, trembled in renewed fear of those that had hurt him in the past. But Bakura, knowing Ryou's fright, was gentle and did not rush him, and eventually Ryou's shivering was stilled by the love shown in Bakura's eyes, even if he did not say it.

That day Ryou learned for the first time just how beautiful love, and even his own self, could really be – that love did not always mean pain, and that the rough, rebellious Thief King felt the loneliness just as any other man did. Bakura also learned one or two things – first, that Ryou was certainly not a weak person, and that he should certainly not be judged on appearance alone. And, secondly, that even the infamous Thief King was not immune to temptation, of the body nor of true friendship. The hidden oasis, no doubt holding many secrets of its own, soon held one more; the love of a couple overcoming all odds to be with one another, regardless of what anyone else may have thought – and the deep mysterious blue of the waters held testament to that love.

As the shadows grew longer, and late afternoon was reached, Bakura sat up from his half-doze against Ryou's chest, stretching his muscles. Ryou got up too, retrieving their clothes and dressing.

"So? Where to next? What great adventure lies on the horizon for the great Thief King and his accomplice?"

"Accomplice? No. Lover."

Ryou smiled, embarrassed but content.

"As for where to, well, let me see. If you're up to some rough travelling, we could make the next town by sunup tomorrow."

Ryou stood tall, an almost-silhouette in the sun's rays, and Bakura caught a glimpse of his true strength of spirit in that moment.

"Travelling it rough? Footing it by night, hiding in the shadows by day? Little water, less food? A menace to society?"

"That's the one."

"Then I wouldn't say no."

Ryou began to walk after determinedly shouldering a light pack – necessities only. Bakura picked up the last, and, tightening the knife in his belt, followed after.

The sun gradually set behind them, darkening the surrounding to create a new tale.

**Well, I hope everyone is satisfied with that ending. Couldn't help the fluff – after the angst I thought some lightening up would be good. Please review and let me know how you thought I did:) **

**I've had a few suggestions to create another Egypt-centric story. So far I've done two shorter one's on Yami x Yugi, and now this one for Ryou x Bakura... if anyone has any suggestions at all for a Seto x Joey fic, I'd love to take them into consideration, and make my Egypt stories into a Trilogy! Ideas? Let me know in an email – you can access that from my userpage.**


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